


I Get Off

by The_Caffeinated_Hamster



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Art School, Life Drawing, M/M, Nude Modeling, Sensation Play, Sexual Fantasy, brief mention of tobacco use, sexual daydreaming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-18
Updated: 2016-07-18
Packaged: 2018-07-16 06:34:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,646
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7256356
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Caffeinated_Hamster/pseuds/The_Caffeinated_Hamster
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dorian is a nude model for an Evening long life drawing class. There's always one student that he attempts to ignore.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Get Off

**Author's Note:**

> I wanted to get this out of my system before I get back to my main project. Once again- no beta, just me. I've done my best to get everything sensible, but there might be some grammatical hiccups I've missed.

There was something to be said about the class he modeled for at a small college on Tuesday evenings, even if it was just a normal run of the mill job for him. Stand there, strike poses, and look pretty. It helped pay the bills so he didn’t mind. The sea of staring faces, were easy to ignore, save for _him_. This particular student caught his eye, which was easy, he towered head shoulders and sometimes even pectorals above everyone else. He had the look of someone that wrestled mythological beasts for fun, and had the scars to prove it. Dorian mentally called him the “Jolly Giant”. He always had a smile showing off bright teeth, a few seemed to be chipped and a few farther back were gone. Dorian try as he might to ignore such a presence couldn’t to save his soul. He would wait patiently for this man to show up as Dorian sat curled up, pretending to read on the prepared platform in the center of the room as he waited for class to start. 

He would also pretend not to watch the Iron Bull take his favorite easel, a large pale wooden easel that looked like the beginnings of a medieval torture device. Dorian tried to ignore how Bull’s arm muscles (especially his biceps) would bunch and relax under his umber skin, there seemed to be bluer tones in his skin in this lighting. Dorian followed the lines from fingers to shoulder, taking in the sinewy tendons in the man’s neck. 

Iron Bull, honestly? He couldn’t have picked a worse name if he was in a damn RPG. It didn’t suit him at all, that was unfair… it suited him perfectly fine. 

Up a little higher past some pale scarring that engulfed his eye in jagged lines and wrapped around his skull towards his ear which suffered extensive damage as well. His eye was gone- covered with a tooled leather eye patch. Usually, the Bull had his dreadlocks pulled back in a loose ponytail behind his head. Dorian wouldn’t call the look slovenly but informal and relaxed. Today his hair had been freshly twisted and then put back into neat braids that ended in a ponytail at the base of his neck. With a sharp breath Dorian decided that the Iron Bull definitely did NOT look handsome and edible especially with that skin tight grey T-shirt he wore. 

Most assuredly NOT tantalizing in the least!

Bull shimmied his easel into place, adjusting it to fit his height; he was good enough not to leave it up at the ridiculously high settings he needed it in, he always set it back to ‘normal person’s height’ before he left, going so far as to wipe down the surfaces of charcoal dust. 

“Got any charcoal I can bum? Trade ya a sepia pastel for it.” Sera called, sporting flip flops a loose hoodie and yoga pants today. Dorian wondered if she was finally going to attempt to draw with her feet today. She had been threatening for weeks.

Without glancing at her, Bull passed an unsealed packet over. “Don’t get the floor dirty.” 

“What, as in dirtier than what it already is?” Sera scoffed, “It’s an art room there’s every stain imaginable on these floors and then some. Lady Fancy Pants won’t notice some feet prints.” 

Bull gave a small shrug, “Fine by me just- don’t say I didn’t warn you.” 

Sera began stretching her limbs, “She’ll probably say some shite about creativity and let me go on my way.” 

Bull made a face and gave his head a small side to side shake, “I wouldn’t count on it, she might dock your grade for messing around. But it’s your choice Sera.” He paused and ran his tongue over his teeth for a moment, “I bet you- you can’t go the whole class drawing with your feet.” 

“How much you bettin’?” Sera froze in place, staring at Bull with her back contorted in a painful looking manner. 

“I got a bottle of coke in my bag, some salt and vinegar chips and-“

“Done. That soda is as good as mine.” She shook Bull’s hand vigorously. “I got some Double Bubble and sour gummy worms to throw on the line.” 

“I was going to throw in some money in there.”

“Piss n’ Shit…” Sera stomped her foot. 

More students filtered in and set up, with the majority of the class was present, Dorian began moving around setting his book into his duffel bag and stretching himself out rocking up and down on the balls of his feet and twisting himself around. 

He ignored how his body burned when he thought Bull was watching him. ‘No damn it I’m a professional! I will not be undone by this mountain of muscle!’ Dorian chided himself closing his eyes. 

He had a chance to gather his wits when Professor Vivienne entered from the side door. She walked in with the ease and grace of a high fashion model. She certainly looked the part, and Dorian always held her in high regard. She nodded to the class, approving that most of the class was already set up. She only had a few rules- Respect the equipment, respect the model, and respect each other’s growth. Those that can’t may leave. 

“Good evening class.” She began, standing next to an easel, prepped and primed for a demonstration, “We will have a series of longer poses tonight; I want do see what all of you can do with the previous week’s lessons. As always we will have a series of gesture drawings as a warm up so please have your newsprint out.” 

A few shifted to grab out thin charcoal sticks, what was that again? Vine Charcoal? Dorian thought slowly easing his robe off his shoulders. Usually he had enough time to think up poses he wanted to do before the class had even begun. He was otherwise distracted by one- TWO no it was TWO! Colourful characters in the class, Dorian refused to let the Bull get under his skin any more than what he already was. 

Stupid attractive muscular artist…

Dorian gave a weary internal sigh, gave his shoulders one powerful stretch then, gracefully hopped up onto the podium setting the timer on his phone, “Ten minutes for the warm up?” 

“Yes please. We’ll get a five minute gesture drawing in first then work our way down.” 

Dorian heard Bull turn to Sera, “Got your toesies warmed up there, Flex?” 

“Call me that again and you’ll be eatin' your charcoal.” 

Bull laughed in a low manner, “Alright Sera, Alright.” Mirth tickled his words. 

Dorian chose to ignore whatever words followed next, striking his first pose, an easy one to hold while the artists got their arms warmed up. Gradually he would ramp up the difficulty on himself to see how long he could balance on one foot. He would rotate his position so everyone could get different angles- he was nice like that.

There was a small five minute break for the students to get out the better paper, Vivienne walking over to Sera. 

“What on earth are you doing?”

“Thought it would be a learnin’ curve of sorts.” Sera supplied quickly, looked to Bull, with a swift jerk to her head added, “It’s also a point of pride.” 

Bull had sense enough to look sheepish, the lug. 

Vivienne looked less than impressed, eyeing both of her charges, with a heavy sound shook her head, “Very well, just don’t break the easel it’s been through enough from the painting classes before us.” 

“Aye fancy Professor ma’am.” Sera saluted Vivienne mockingly. She looked smug when Vivienne left- finally pulling a fast one on the Professor (that didn’t have the conversation end with “Bitch” or any other insults). 

Dorian had enough time to eat an apple and read half a chapter for break; he began stretching languidly before time was called. Students filtering in some with coffees from the vending machines, one looking heart broken, “It dispensed the coffee first… then the cup…” the student pouted taking up his place again. 

Bull slapped the man’s back and passed him a second candy bar. “That sucks the big one man.”

“Yeah…” 

“Alright Class- take up your easels, we’re doing the final pose for this evening.” Vivienne called. 

Dorian shed his robe once more, pausing briefly to remember which side of the room he was facing, he turned on his heel looked up and mentally balked at himself. He was facing the Bull’s side of the room. Dorian scoffed at himself suddenly, he was a professional he could get through this last pose facing this man, what could possibly go wrong?

Bull had his fingers and even the bridge of his nose smeared with charcoal, and the terra cotta conté crayon he had been using in an earlier piece. It almost looked like messy camouflage face paint, if Dorian was being perfectly frank. 

Bull settled his gaze on Dorian, his singular eye boring into him with a chilling intensity. For one brief moment Dorian realized he was staring back at him, then that feeling of being picked apart bit by bit ran up his spine making Dorian’s leg and arm hair stand on end. Dorian broke eye contact, and focused on the wall behind Bull. But the damage was done. 

_Dorian had his orders to keep still before the blindfold was slipped on. He was kneeling for now hands cuffed and set on his lower back._

_“Open that pretty mouth of yours. You talking won’t do.”_

_Obediently, his jaw dropped open and a ball gag slid against his teeth before being tied behind his head. “Too tight?” Bull asked patiently, large fingers checking the bands._

_Dorian shook his head no, he shivered when over warm hands ran down his shoulders and back, they left his back, his thighs were shifted a touch more to give him a wider stance on the bed. Then he was left alone._

_He had to be patient, it was easier when he pretended he was doing a lewd, 18+ modeling session. He felt himself relax and his knees sink into the memory foam mattress._

_The first touch was around his jawline, wet and frigid his shoulders tensed as the corner of an ice cube raked down his jaw, over the tendons of his neck and clavicle. Dorian shuddered huffing a sudden breath through the gag as the melting cube passed over his nipples._

_“Shh, I got you. Relax.”_

_With another shudder, he obeyed. Disobedience had its perks, but not now, he wanted to see where this went. Maybe he could ask to be spanked after Bull had his fun? Dorian fought the urge to thrash as the ice made a slow path down his chest, sat at the base of his cock for a few too many heart beats. He was growing used to the chill when it began moving up the length of his cock, encircled the head of his cock, and then, was removed. Dorian’s hips twitched as he shivered bodily._

_He must have been making sounds or he was hunching over too far, Bull’s palm settled across his pectorals, pushing him back into a firm but still cushioned chest, “Stay still or I’ll get the rope out.” Bull growled against his ear before biting the lobe with his canines._

_He’d be good, he’d be good. Dorian turned his face into Bull’s when his ear was released, pain made his ear tingle for a time. Bull had a chuckle in his voice, “Good boy.”_

_His reward was having his stretched lips gently traced with Bull’s tongue. “You look damn delicious like this you know that right? Of course if you didn’t have the gag you’d probably shoot your mouth off and I’d have to spank you.”_

_Dorian’s cock twitched, Bull hummed his appreciation, “Not tonight, Big Guy.”_

_Pity._

_The massive bulk left his back, and once again Dorian was alone and in his thoughts for a small time. He was wondering what would come next- a blow from a flog, perhaps? Maybe even an all cheek encompassing spank to the ass? He knew Bull said "no", but a man could hope. Right?_

_He wasn’t expecting candle wax, to be splashed at his back, his moan muffled by the gag. Gravity, the evil bitch, was working a tear of wax slowly down towards his---_

“The hell?” 

Dorian’s waxy eyes suddenly focused again; mortified he took stock of what he might look like. He hadn’t budged an inch. Though the position of his penis was jutting skyward, all too soon he realized that he had lost control of his body for one brief moment. Bull seemed appreciative of the display, or at least that was the lie Dorian told himself. He could never show his face on this campus again. 

“Oy what’s all that fluidity stringy bit coming out of his willy?” Sera asked her voice in a mocking whisper. 

“Time!” Vivienne called before the class was lost to her. “Turn your easels around.” 

Dorian wasted no time, throwing on his robe, he looked at no one when he rushed to change into normal clothes, his erection had flagged enough that Dorian had no trouble zipping his fly, though he managed to trip over his shoe laces a few times running down the hall. 

As soon as he was outside, he crouched to the ground and screamed into his fist. In a sudden fit, he lashed his fists into the air, as if fighting off an unseen mugger. Once he exhausted himself of his temper tantrum he stormed off to the nearby parking lot to a half sunken bench. 

Perching on the back of the bench he rifled around for his cigarettes. Sorting and shifting around his plethora of granola bar wrappers and notes. He fought with his backpack for the better part of ten minutes, sparing a few glances at papers, mouthing out words crumpling them up more before tossing them back into the bag. He cursed, and grumbled, “I had them RIGHT HERE.” He found them under a few train tickets (from three years ago). Fetched out the small roll of tobacco (and other tasty carcinogens) and his lighter, with a small sigh he popped it into his mouth. 

He had just started the cigarette when a large hand came down and plucked it out of his mouth. “Better not do that Big Guy- these’ll kill ya.” Bull said taking a long drag from it, “Taking sitting lessons from Krem I take it?” 

“Shut it, let me have my misery fag,” Dorian reached up trying to grab it out of Bull’s reach.

“I lost to Sera, that is more upsetting than you getting a jolly in class.” 

“I’d still be in a job if I hadn’t let you have your way with me.” 

“I’m offended!” Bull held his hand up to his clavicle in a theatrical display, “You laughed your ass off at my pickup lines.” 

“That’s not how you’re supposed to woo a man, Bull.” 

“My method worked with you just fine, Kadan.” 

Dorian gave Bull a hard punch to the arm, Dorian having to shake his hand out afterwards. He sagged onto Bull’s arm, “I want a drink.” 

“Fancy pink one or the fancy thing with all the fruit?” 

“The pink one…” Dorian grumbled.

“Well lets load you up and get you a sympathy drink- that “Tutu Flamingo”.” 

“That’s not what it’s called.” 

“Bet you it is.” Bull grinned leading him towards a ragged looking truck. 

“What’s on the line?”

“If I win: we bust out the silk rope, and, I’ll tie you up all nice n’ pretty. If you win- you get to act out that fantasy of yours.” 

“Deal.” Dorian kissed Bull’s cheek before hopping into the truck. 

Sometimes, Bull really liked losing.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading :3


End file.
